


My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevelyan accidentally brings a cutting of one of his flowers into the Fade with him. When he presents it later to Dorian in an attempt to court him, he is met with more academic interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

**Author's Note:**

> 100 Prompt Challenge: "Earth"

The rose bush had been a gift, though it was not known exactly how it had ended up in the gardens of the Ostwick Circle. Trevelyan had already been at the Circle since his childhood, years before it was planted, but he only started gardening in his thirties. By that point, whoever had planted it had moved on, though he suspected it was planted within two years of the Ferelden Blight. 

Of all the plants, it was his favourite. He had tended it for nearly eight years and it had thrived even as the world fell apart around them. The garden was a place to collect his thoughts. Much of the anger of his twenties was fading and he felt a sense of loss. He was no teacher, even if he was feeling a paternal longing. He no longer found interest in meaningless sex but did not trust himself to love another deeply. 

But in the gardens, he could create, he could make beauty. And while there were plants that were more useful, more practical, there was something about these roses. A promise, something hopeful. Even in the midst of darkness, there was something worth fighting for.

When the Circle fell and Trevelyan only had mere moments to grab his possessions and leave the only home he had known for nearly thirty years, he went to his garden. He cut a stem of his rose bush and placed it in his satchel. He ran off with the others, not looking back.

***

Trevelyan woke, vaguely remembering the ordeal that had brought him locked into the prison. His satchel lay beside him, slightly opened. As the Seeker questioned him, the red-headed woman searched through his bag.

At her gasp, Cassandra and Trevelyan turned. The rose cutting lay on the stone tiles, still as perfect as when he had cut it days before. 

Leliana picked up the flower, the spymaster smiling secretively as she smelled it.

"I know this scent," she said quietly. "I smelled this once, a long time ago....we can trust him, Cassandra. I know it. The Maker has sent him to us."

"Because of a flower?" Cassandra asked in confusion.

Leliana murmured, "The Maker works in mysterious ways..."

***

Trevelyan kept the rose in his pack and to his surprise, it survived. It survived being tossed into the future and back, survived with him even when he nearly froze to death outside of Haven. Even when they arrived at Skyhold, the rose seemed just as lovely and beautiful as it had in his garden. 

He did not mention it to anyone, nor did Leliana bring it up again to him. Yet as the first week at Skyhold grew to a close and it appeared as if they would be somewhat settled, Trevelyan knew exactly what he wanted to do with it.

On a winter's day, Trevelyan went up into the library, looking for Dorian. The younger mage was busy cross-referencing between texts, bickering affectionately with Varric who was writing at a desk nearby. The Inquisitor summoned up his courage and went over.

"Dorian, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Can it wait?" Dorian asked. "I've just made a bet with Varric that I knew the exact birth dates of the last eight Divines."

"Of course," Trevelyan said, "it's not-"

Varric laughed, "Go on then. I already know I've lost. I don't need the man rubbing it in my face."

Dorian smirked and followed Trevelyan into another alcove. "Need something?"

"I have something I think you might find interesting," Trevelyan said nervously. "This is a cutting from one of my plants back in Ostwick. It was on me when I went through the Fade."

Dorian took the rose in his hands. "Fascinating. It looks just like you cut it yesterday. Seems like a strange thing to bring to peace talks though, unless this is some sort of Ferelden weaponry I know nothing about."

Trevelyan laughed, "No, it just...it's just a peace of home. It was something that meant a lot to me. It makes me think of you. Through everything, it thrives and becomes even more beautiful."

"Is this for me?" Dorian asked softly, looking up at him.

Trevelyan's heart raced. "Yes."

"This is amazing," Dorian said, grinning.

Trevelyan started to speak, but Dorian cut him off. "Amazing, a piece of living plant matter that was in the physical Fade and still thriving weeks after being plucked. I'll have to study this. Don't worry, I'll save you any seeds, you can rebuild your little garden. Thank you!"

Trevelyan said finally, "I meant for you to have it, to...look at it."

"Yes, I know, I'm going to-"

"Dorian," Trevelyan said sheepishly. "Not for study, not for science or magic. Just for you to have. Because...you know what, never mind. Just try to bring back a rosehip for me. I'll try planting the seeds in the spring."

Dorian skipped off and Trevelyan glanced over, noticing Varric laughing into his drink as he continued working.

"When you two do get together and I write your biography," he said, "I'll try to make this a much more poignant moment."

"I'd appreciate that," Trevelyan sighed.


End file.
